


Indulge in Things Refined

by Wawa_Girl



Series: I've Loved These Days [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Banter, Birthdays, Bittersweet Themes, Cheesy Ferris Bueller References, Childhood Memories, Early Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Humor, Ice Skating, Immaturity, Memories, Nostalgia, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Romance, Slow-dancing, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cuteness, innuendos, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wawa_Girl/pseuds/Wawa_Girl
Summary: Without thinking twice, Peter outstretched his arm toward her's. "So show me.""What?" she asked, coming to a slow halt."Show me how to do it," he explained, putting on a confident and suave exterior, though awestruck and excited on the inside. "If it's so much like dancing, that's clearly why you're a pro." At that Gamora rolled her eyes, but also tried to hide looking flattered. Peter totally caught it. "Shouldn't be too hard for me to catch on under that philosophy, with your great teaching."Gamora only replied with an amused shake of her head. "I am not an instructor.""That makes it better!" Peter exclaimed, to his girlfriend's confusion. "Or at least more fun! Come on, just some pointers." He wasdedicatedto this idea now.(Or: Sometimes Peter isn't so great ateveryphysical activity, and Gamora is a better teacher than she believes.)
Relationships: Gamora/Peter Quill
Series: I've Loved These Days [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1675462
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	Indulge in Things Refined

"Hehehe! You are so embarrassed."

Peter scowled, and dropped Mantis' hand that she'd offered to help him up.

Curse her ability to read him so easily.

And her habit of announcing _every feeling_ the second she read it.

He ignored her hand, propping himself up on his elbows instead. " _You_ had to pick the slipperiest rink in the whole damn galaxy."

Mantis' smile fell, suddenly looking uncertain and sad. Peter almost felt guilty, and would've said something else before Gamora came gliding over to stop in front of him.

"Don't listen to him, Mantis," she reassured her, and gave a teasing glare his direction. "It's your day. He's just kidding and a sore sport."

"Yeah, yeah." Peter rolled his eyes at his own expense and smiled. "Kidding. Go have fun," he told her and took Gamora's hand. Mantis beamed and quickly went sliding away to meet Drax on the other side of the wall.

Peter groaned as he let Gamora help him stand back up from the ground and lean against her. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Certainly. Just leave her alone; it's _her_ celebration."

"I know!" he defended. Like he'd ever try to hurt _Mantis_. "She knows when I'm teasing. Usually," he added, less confident. Honestly, he wasn't positive; Mantis was still working on social cues, so maybe she couldn't always tell when Peter was joking or actually peeved. "I'm glad she's loving it, just--" he gestured to the ice now coating his heavy pants and roughly wiped it off in an exaggerated, overly-annoyed, dramatic fashion.

"You are all right?" Gamora asked, sounding a touch concerned.

He nodded and gave a nonchalant, reassuring smile. "Yeah. The falling on my ass every thirty seconds just isn't fun."

"Your backside is going to be very sore tomorrow," she stated, smirking a little.

"And not for the good reasons--" he said with a bigger smirk, and Gamora threw a hand over his mouth with her lightning reflexes.

"Shhh! _Peter!_ "

"Going down!" he shouted in response to her scolding - voice muffled against her hand - the sudden movement making him lose balance _again_.

Gamora caught him this time before his butt could painfully collide with the hard ice, seemingly forgetting her annoyance or embarrassment at his witty indiscretion, now chuckling at his repeated skating blunders. " _Whahat_ is wrong with you?" she asked through a genuine laugh that made Peter's heart melt, wrapping an arm around his waist. "This is _easy_!" she claimed while waving her hand and spinning around with simplicity and grace.

He scoffed at that opinion, and felt that she was immediately proven false when he saw Mantis slipping and colliding onto the ground - though laughing the entire time - and Drax falling soon after while attempting to hug Mantis' waist and keep her up.

"Uh-huh," Peter replied to his show-offy girlfriend, tone dripping with sarcasm. "That hardly seems fair when _you're_ the only one here who's good at this."

"Excuse me?" an obnoxious voice circled around them, the source easily gliding about on one leg.

Okay, maybe Gamora wasn't _too_ "show-offy" compared to _some_ people.

Peter sighed. " _Can it_ , Rocket."

Said show-off _did_ shut up, for a _few seconds_ , but smirked as he circled them again and skated in Mantis and Drax's direction, twirling around like a goddamn ballerina, like he'd been plucked right from a wind-up carnival toy.

Peter knew that being smaller had its advantages, knew that from being the youngest and smallest on a Ravager ship for years, but _seriously?_ _Rocket_ out of everybody had to be the one doing practically Olympic-level moves and gloating every minute of it?

And amplifying said gloating once he realized that _Peter would_ be falling on his ass pretty much the entire time?

"I jus' don't wanna hear another dumb word about not bein'as coordinated, Star-Klutz!" Rocket shouted, jumping high in the air and landing perfectly on his feet, whipping his tail against the newly-created slush and swishing the stuff dramatically in Gamora and Peter's direction - though it barely reached their ankles - Groot holding on tight to the fur on Rocket's shoulder, smile as wide as the Grand Canyon, his adorable tiny hat practically falling off his little wooden head, and loving every second of it.

"We get the point, Rocket," Gamora called over to them, though clearly not annoyed, highly amused really, her arm still keeping Peter upward.

She and Rocket's skating skills seemed to be about the same level, but she did look impressed, either not expecting Rocket to have much experience, or just surprised based on the failures of the rest of the team.

"And jumping like that makes you look like a girl!" Peter hollered at Rocket.

Not a second later Gamora turned her head to glare at him, probably considering dropping him right on the spot, before Peter cringed and gave a weak grin. "Sorry," he quickly said. "Don't let go," he begged in a _possibly_ child-like tone, though he was kinda serious. This was the most steady on his feet Peter had felt since crossing through the entrance, and his butt and knees really did _ache_.

She kept her hold and rolled her eyes, loosening her grip only a little to stretch her arms and slowly lead them both to one of the sidewalls and railings.

Phew. Yeah, this would be a nice rest.

"I must agree with Rocket," Gamora said, and let go of Peter's shoulder once he slumped against the wall. "For one like yourself who often brags about his athletic and coordination skills, this performance is...surprising," she explained in the kindest words possible, and spun around in place a few times with her arms above her head, staying close to the rails. 

"That's not what he said," Peter replied concerning her misinterpretation of Rocket's rude taunts.

She ignored his correction, still idling nearby. "How is it that you are able to fight and fly so well, but can't do something as simple as _skating?_ " she asked, or more _marveled_ at what Peter assumed was a rhetorical question disguised as genuine curiosity to sound more polite than Rocket. Peter gave a huff and an eye-roll before she added, "Or merely _stand up_ straight wearing ice skates."

"It's slippery!" he defended with the stupidly obvious, and hoped that no one else had overheard such a lame explanation.

"That is the _idea_ ," Gamora needlessly replied. "I thought you were aware," she said, now resting her own arm over the wall and casually sliding it closer to reach for his hand.

He accepted it and answered. "I _was_ , just...these skates don't fit right," he threw out a dumb lie, and grinned at the pathetic excuse before Gamora could even give the appropriate deadpan stare. "Okay, and I'm just bad at it, apparently!" he confessed what everyone already knew by now. "Can't be great at _everything_! It's not like it's as easy as yodeling through the woods like everyone else who didn't grow up on flippin' _Hoth_ ," he spit out through a laugh and a grunt while he struggled to keep himself upright and not slip down.

"I have no idea what that is, I hope not another obscene remark in public, and it's not as though piloting a spaceship even semi-safely at high speed from powerful enemies is a stroll through the park," she replied with a grin, using one of his more common Earth idioms.

Peter had to admit, it _did_ make him feel good to hear Gamora state so openly that she admired his other skills.

"Yeah, but I've been doing that since I was _twelve_ ," he reminded her, totally _not_ bragging, squeezing her hand that was pretty cold, though not as cold as his own, even with both of them wearing thick gloves.

Gamora tilted her head. "I thought you said that these types of rinks exist on Earth, too. For recreation and competition, and safe for children," she said, clearly confused. "Was that not from personal experience?"

"Well, yeah..." he began. To be fair, he'd had less experience in that department since leaving Earth, but even _then_ Peter's time on Missouri lakes or party rinks was less than impressive at age seven.

He had obviously built up more physical strength and skill since then, and had _assumed_ that skating balance would go along with them. He'd genuinely been looking forward to coming today, before nearly face-planting over the threshold.

Okay, _actually_ face-planting.

Gamora gave a more endearing smile, and gently slipped her fingers out of his to continue gliding nearby. 

"Seriously, I know you're kinda great at everything..." he said both teasing and as a genuine compliment, 'cause it was basically true, "but how _are_ you so good at this?" Peter couldn't help but ask, distracted and in awe since the start by Gamora's easy and graceful movements, which did _not_ help much with his own concentration issues. "Does it come naturally, or...?"

"Somewhat naturally. It does feel easy, but I am also used to it," she explained in a casual tone. "I've run on ice before without slipping. Many times."

" _Run?_ " Peter echoed in shock, his mouth gaping open like a fish, and he knew he shouldn't be surprised - Gamora was the most skilled warrior in the _galaxy_ , after all - but the thought and mental picture alone made Peter feel like he was about to trip and break both his legs.

Instead of bragging - or explaining any further - Gamora simply set her mouth in a straight line, her expression turned neutral, almost sad. She gave a small, curt nod and turned her head, still skating mostly in place.

"Ahh," he said under his breath, guessing too late that those times probably weren't happy, safe, or voluntary (Gamora was competitive and perfectionist, but not exactly an adrenaline junkie daredevil like himself), and he didn't love it whenever he gave an inappropriate, dumb reaction to one of her shittier memories. 

He knew what it was like to be forced into survival situations - or dangerous, corrupt assignments - too young against his will, but Gamora's stories were usually a thousand times worse.

She didn't seem upset with him though, smiling in the direction of the rest of the team and their pratfall antics.

"This _was_ one of _your_ suggestions, remember?" she turned her head back to him and teased pointedly.

"True," he played along as though this was a courtroom interrogation. "Granted, I was really hoping she would pick space bowling," he confessed, already sensing Gamora's eye-roll at his needless yet _hilarious_ use of the word _'space'_ before the game. "My aim is fantastic; I'd have creamed you all."

"Doubtful, and that also sounds dirty, be _quiet_ ," she scolded swiftly almost like a robot. He smirked, and Gamora looked again at the opposite side of the rink where Rocket was sloshing more ice near Mantis, who giggled at the surprise. "And Mantis is having a good time."

Peter gave a casual shrug, as though that _wasn't_ the most important thing to him today. "Then I suppose it is worth the bruises. Perhaps."

It had all started when, during an awkward-turned-kinda-casual-and-fun group discussion back on _The Quadrant_ about home-planet traditions and childhood celebrations, Mantis revealed what should have already been obvious to everyone - that because she had no memories from before Ego took her as an infant, and had spent her whole life on his planet away from any biological family or other members of her species, only with Ego who merely used and ignored her - she had no idea _when_ her birthday was or how it worked, and therefore had never celebrated a _birthday_ in her entire life - a cultural practice that was _not_ unique to Earth, and surprised and saddened everyone else on the team.

Even Gamora had recalled pleasant and humble birthday memories from her pre-Thanos life, with her real parents and birth family when she was little on Zehoberei, and was heartbroken by Mantis' lack of any innocent childhood fun whatsoever.

That was when they all decided - _Peter's_ idea first, for the record - that they should screw the idea of "exact dates" or "childish rituals." They could just make up any random, upcoming date on the intergalactic calendar they used and dub it as Mantis' birthday to celebrate every year, and begin that new tradition as soon as possible, since tracking down calendars for Mantis' original planet - and researching her species normal birth times and events - would take too long and possibly fail, and factual accuracy and conventional traditions never mattered much to the _Guardians of the Galaxy_ anyway. As long as they celebrated _some time_ and _somehow_.

Because _everyone_ deserved a birthday party. 

Especially Mantis.

They had all thrown out different "fun" suggestions, Rocket's all taking place in distant bars, and Drax's ideas all involving various "pretend" duel games (at least they were _pretend_ in this case), but Mantis had taken to Peter's list of common childhood birthday party activities on Earth, such as bowling, paintball, Hot Lava, arcade games, and ice or roller skating.

Skating - ( _'The ice option!'_ ) - had of course won, and after agreeing to a handful of minor and boring security jobs for the owner of the rink, the team was able to reserve the place for themselves on the designated party day, and were even allowed to hook up Peter's Zune to the rink's speaker system to occasionally play some good stuff - mixed in with the arena's usual Nelmeenian hit songs - with an extra dash of _Beatles_ on the Zune playlist since they're Mantis' favorite.

Not a terrible deal, _or_ a terrible way to celebrate.

Except for the whole, ya know, being unable to move without head-diving into the solid, frozen water.

There _were_ plenty of familiar, big city hot-spot ice and roller rinks on Xandar that would've been convenient - _and_ they might have been able to snag special treatment for their popularity and status - but they decided to travel a little farther to a foreign planet of Mantis' choosing, to make the experience and occasion seem that much bigger and more fun for the birthday girl.

And it worked like a charm, since Mantis squealed and chattered the entire morning journey on the ship, and lit up like a child in awe of the huge building size, sparkling neon lights, holograms, and entire scope of the party rink.

Four months away from Ego, exploring other places and planets, and Mantis was still like a kid in a candy store whenever finding someplace new beyond her limited experience, so much wonder in her eyes and wearing the brightest smile, and a desire to see and do _everything_ , not caring how many times she tripped and fell on the ice.

And it was pretty damn adorable, and kinda heartbreaking in an unspoken way that the other Guardians rarely acknowledged beyond sad, knowing glances.

It was a treat for everybody, really. They'd rarely gotten to have fun in public as outlaws - though Rocket had clearly snuck into at least a _few_ ice rinks in the past, it was the _only_ explanation - and Peter had always wanted to stop in here as a kid whenever Yondu dragged him to Nelmeen for less legal or wholesome "errands." This atmosphere was far beyond even the biggest, most popular and expensive rinks in St. Charles that Peter had only been inside of twice.

Flying across advanced planets and high-tech civilizations about two-thirds of his life, and docking up and chilling on _Xandar_ most of the time these days with the team, used to these space malls and incredible technologies daily, in places like _this_ Peter still sometimes felt like friggin' Marty McFly if he'd used _The DeLorean_ to travel _forward_ in time.

His life had no doubt become a sci-fi movie now, and Star-Lord approved.

The large signs and posters reading that the place was closed and reserved for a private party were super neat, and even though Peter _and_ Rocket had both agreed and complained that it would've been better if the name _"Guardians of the Galaxy!"_ was displayed to brag, now that Peter knew he'd be spending most of the day embarrassing himself on the ground, maybe less attention and Xandarian crowds, and more robotic employee assistance checking on them rather than real people to spread the gossip about Star-Lord's failed agility was for the best.

"You know," he heard Gamora's voice say as she began heading toward the center. "I thought that _you_ of all people would excel at this activity," she said directly to Peter, her head twisted around to face him, long hair falling over the shoulder of her simple, light, purple jacket with tiny white snowflake designs. "And not only because you suggested it."

Peter smiled, but gave her a genuine confused and curious shrug. "Why then?"

"Because it's so similar to dancing," she simply replied, and with that lifted her leg and glided off toward Mantis and Rocket.

Peter just stared in surprise for a moment. Surprised both that Gamora had made such a natural connection, and at the memories immediately sent flying into his head.

Memories of St. Charles ice rinks for different relatives' and classmates' birthdays, and frozen winter lakes for smaller outings with family, Mom blasting a strange but awesome mix of _The Supremes_ and _Beach Boys_ cassettes from the open door of their small car parked up on the muddy grass hill.

And the number of times Mom had pulled him up gently from the ice and brushed the snow off his puffy coat, while his pathetic seven-year-old self stood pouting, ready to give up, quit this stupid ice-skating idea forever.

 _'No long faces, Star-Lord,'_ Mom had teased one time, shaking his shoulders to get him to look up from the dirt and smile. "You'll get the knack of it."

When he finally did stop being stubborn and turn around his frown, she ruffled his hair and tried to lead him back to the edge of the pond. 

_'It's just like dancing, sweetie,'_ she said in a random bit of wisdom and advice, a reassurance that this would all come naturally in due time, making it look and sound so easy, like it was something they were both born to master.

Peter shook himself out of the charming and welcome flashback at the sound of Groot making an adorable _'Wheeeeeeeeee...!'_ sound. He was now off of Rocket's shoulder and sliding across the ice in circles like a hockey puck.

Gamora was skating back in Peter's direction, mindful of Groot's erratic patterns and holding in giggles at the toddler's enthusiasm.

Without thinking twice, Peter outstretched his arm toward her's. "So show me."

"What?" she asked, coming to a slow halt.

"Show me how to do it," he explained, putting on a confident and suave exterior, though awestruck and excited on the inside. "If it's so much like dancing, that's clearly why you're a pro." At that Gamora rolled her eyes, but also tried to hide looking flattered. Peter totally caught it. "Shouldn't be too hard for me to catch on under that philosophy, with your great teaching."

Gamora only replied with an amused shake of her head. "I am not an instructor."

"That makes it better!" Peter exclaimed, to his girlfriend's confusion. "Or at least more fun! Come on, just some pointers." He was _dedicated_ to this idea now.

"Really?" she asked, gesturing to the team at the far side of the rink, surprised that he didn't want this little coaching session to be in private. "In front of everybody?"

"Don't rub it in," Peter deadpanned as a joke. "At least Mantis will see me fall a few more times and laugh and it will be the highlight of her birthday memory." He would regret that acceptance later down the road, he was sure of it, but it didn't seem like such a terrible thing right now. "Please?" he asked Gamora again, gloved hand still reaching toward her's, using his widened puppy-dog eyes and extended lower lip to help in the persuasion. "Show me?"

Gamora huffed through a smile and eventually took his hand. "Okay well, first you will need to let go of the wall." Peter rolled his eyes because he _knew that much_ , pushing himself from the edge and allowing her to pull him a little closer. "And try to...stand up straighter, you're slouching. Good," she said when he did his best to mimic her perfect posture. This didn't feel too different from whenever she'd helped train him in lesser-known martial arts or blade combat techniques while sparring, or whenever Peter had given _her_ extra shooting lessons or dance tips.

Although such lessons _were_ mostly alone, it wasn't too bad in public right now, as _Twist and Shout_ began blaring through the rink's sound system from his Zune, replacing the center's slow, boring classical music, Mantis from a distance lighting up at the first few notes and attempting to shake and twist as the song instructed without falling.

"Now just...don't try to skate and slide right away, I suppose," Gamora continued, looking like she was searching for the right words to best describe her advice. "Try walking normally while wearing the skate boots first."

" _Walking?_ " Peter put one hand on his hip and questioned. "That's it?" He couldn't help feeling a little indignant, like she thought of him like he was a toddler nervous to take his first steps across the playground. "I know how to _walk_ ; _that's_ your big tip?"

"Fine, if you do not want my help," she said abruptly in a teasing tone, but must have meant it to some degree because she turned on her heels and began skating away, practically yanking him with her when he didn't let go of her hand, instead tightening his grip.

"Okay, okay! Sorry!" he said as she pulled him away and he started to slip. "I'll walk, hold on!" he begged her while laughing, and she smirked cheekily at him and slowed down.

Peter sighed and did as she said, gripping her shoulder while straightening his back, gradually letting go as he took short, pathetic steps in a half-circle around Gamora.

And lo and behold, he _did_ feel slightly less compelled to publicly display the laws of gravity at work.

"Heeeey okaaay, yeeeaaahh...startin' to feel a bit more like a Krylorian dance floor," he said slowly, starting to gain his balance and footing, legs still a bit wobbly, not attempting a moonwalk quite _yet_.

Gamora smiled and gave a little _'I told you so'_ gesture. "I think you need to pace yourself overall. You were rushing when we first arrived, considering you're not used to the surface," she advised.

And it was weird, because Gamora was never the _'slow down, pace yourself'_ type of teacher, no matter how much she tried to be practical.

She didn't really do "patience" much better than he did, yet Peter could tell she was trying her best for his sake.

Almost like whenever Yondu or Kraglin had tried to teach him something as a kid by yelling for him to slow down, despite both of them wanting to get it done, get rid of him for the day, and move on as fast as possible.

This scenario was a lot more chilled, and Peter decided to stop resisting, to let his girlfriend - the _expert_ \- take the lead. "Okay. What else?"

"Well," Gamora started, hand on her waist and biting her tongue, clearly trying to think about how to explain what came naturally to her. "You probably should have stretched first to warm up. In the lobby, or at least against the wall."

"For the draining and exhausting 'walking and sliding indoors' workout," he quipped on instinct, and winced seconds later, realizing that he was doing a less than gold-star job at keeping his sarcasm below douchebag levels and _listening_ to the tips he'd _asked_ Gamora to give him. "Sorry," he added at her only slightly bemused and far too patient look. _'Focus,'_ he mentally scolded himself.

"And you also should've worn lighter clothing," she said, and slid a few inches closer to his body, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Or fewer layers. Here, just--"

"Hey!" he yelped playfully in surprise as she unzipped his coat, genuinely confused but not upset. "Well, this took an unexpected turn--"

"Shut up," she snapped back, mouth close to his face as she also unlatched his jacket hooks. "I warned you about the dirty comments; I've fought combat on ice too, you know," she threatened with a smirk, and finished yanking the sleeves of his overcoat off his arms. Peter fake zipped his mouth shut. "You'll become overheated in this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Does that really make sense in _cold_ areas?" he asked, this time without sarcasm, truly curious how this made any logical scientific sense. True, space rinks were a lot more high-tech and temperature-controlled than on Earth, and this was one of the largest and fanciest rinks this side of the star system, but Peter still felt _freezing_ right now. "Is that really how _temperature_ works?"

"You will warm up soon enough from the exercise. I may not be an expert on human biology, but I do know how you sweat. You are still warm-blooded. Even in cold air," she explained. "You must know that much from years of Contraxia getaways and roguery, right?"

Peter shrugged. "I guess so," he admitted. 

"Plus this will weigh you down even more."

He blinked and shot his head back up. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked quickly, not a microsecond later, worried immediately about his girlfriend's implications there.

Gamora didn't answer, and Peter's hand may have unconsciously moved to his stomach, looking down and feeling a twinge disturbed. Gamora just turned to their left and flung his jacket from around her elbow in the direction of the team with impressive speed and aim, calling out, _"Somebody catch this!"_

The three partiers looked up - everyone except for Groot, who was now sliding around the top of the ledge. Peter had started to forget they were all here, this little lesson with Gamora feeling more intimate and private in the past few minutes. 

Both Mantis and Drax reached up and each caught a sleeve of his jacket.

"Ooh! What do I win?!" Mantis exclaimed, bouncing on her skates and beginning to slide down, before spreading out her arms and triumphantly stopping herself from collapsing again. "Or is this only worth beginner points?" she asked, trying to figure out this non-existent game while Gamora shook her head and smiled fondly.

"I caught it too!" Drax countered, holding the sleeve in his left hand high up in the air. Mantis nodded seriously in agreement, wordlessly conceding her imaginary victory points. "And I believe we are meant to use it as a flag," Drax guessed.

"Ahh," Mantis replied like this made complete sense. "But what does it symbolize?"

"I believe it _symbolizes_ that Quill and 'Mora are aboutta get us kicked outta here!" Rocket said while still skating in fancy circles around the others.

Gamora rolled her eyes and turned back to Peter. "Do whatever you'd like with it as long as it doesn't get lost," she called to them.

Peter crossed his arms. "If that gets ruined you owe me a new one from _Dislane Discount Duds_ ," he teased (not the Contraxian shop's actual name, but it's what Peter had always called it since he was fourteen), already imagining his prized, dashing attire either ripped to shreds or covered in piss within the next hour.

"Arms out," Gamora ignored him and instructed. "Hold them out for balance, just as Mantis did. It'll make a large difference." Peter removed his cold arms from their crossed position and spread them outward about halfway. "Moreso. Straight out," Gamora said, holding back a laugh at his hesitance.

"I'll look like I'm playing airplane," he whined, because it was true, he'd feel _ridiculous_.

"Or a spaceship," she supplied with a smile and waved her arm, not understanding the problem here.

"Exactly," Peter hissed. "Rocket will think I look like an idiot," he explained, trying to shuffle backwards, keeping only one arm out and the other holding Gamora's wrist. 

"That would not be new. Ignore him and just do it, Peter. It is better than falling."

"In _your_ opinion," he mumbled under his breath and sighed, spreading his arms out wide like a goddamn propeller, like when he was a toddler pretending to fly. 

He continued his slow walking with this new balancing tactic and could already see the ease and benefit. And the patterns scratched onto the ice from the blades were pretty cool--

"Head up, don't look at your feet," Gamora added, seeming more comfortable in this teaching role, though still trying to avoid diving into drill sergeant territory. "Go farther than three inches with your eyes facing downward and you will bump into somebody else. _Again_ ," she muttered the last word under her own breath this time.

Peter moved his eyes to look back up at her for only a second. "I ran into Drax _twice_ ," he defended. For over half an hour on the ice as a rookie, and with Drax's random, less-than-coordinated and disorganized route, that _wasn't bad_.

"And next time it could be Groot and he could get hurt," Gamora said firmly. 

"With _Groot's_ size, looking _down_ is probably the _best_ way to avoid hitting him," Peter countered.

"Good point," she admitted.

Still Peter knew that she had a good point too, making him take a deep breath and look straight ahead while moving, again managing to feel comfortable without the need to plunge. "See? Simple," Gamora said proudly. "Now lean forward and bend your knees, like this." Peter did just that, miming her movements and examples before she could shove him down for another poorly-timed dirty joke.

Instead he traveled a decent few feet away and somehow managed to twist around to see Gamora spinning idly in place watching him. She didn't look _overly_ impressed, because this _was_ pretty basic stuff he _should_ have already known, but she was definitely pleased, happy for him. He still felt a little bit like a kid, but Rocket barely seemed to notice, and it was time spent with Gamora, so he wouldn't complain, and wow, he _was_ getting warmer already--

"Right, and to make better turns, push off with your leading foot..." Gamora called over to him. "And just twist in the direction you want to go--"

"Like dancing--?"

" _Yes_ , like _dancing_ ," she interrupted before he could finish, rolling her eyes and smiling at his love for her comparison.

It actually did make learning easier, as a dancer's mindset had made almost everything easier throughout his entire weird life.

The blaring, awesome music didn't hurt his ability to guide him in that way either, especially the song's fast pace and specific rhythm.

He may have gotten a bit over cocky, attempting a faster spin and a high kick while pointing at Gamora in tune with the crescendo of the song, before losing his balance and slipping again, falling forward with an unceremonious shriek before Gamora had the chance to slide over and steady him up, throwing his left arm in front of his head at the last second to protect his face.

"I said to start slow!" she scolded though a laugh after he hit the ground. "What happened to patience?" she asked. "And keeping your arms out?"

"The moment and John Lennon demanded it," he grunted. "Sorry."

"The dancing comparison may have been a mistake," she confessed, burgundy glove against her cheek as she watched him try to crawl back to his feet.

"No, it was _perfect_ , really," he corrected her. "Trust me, even a dancing pro like Yours Truly sprains an ankle once in a blue moon."

"Blue moon?"

"Means 'rarely'."

"Well, speaking of your natural clumsiness," she began again once he was standing and barely swaying, holding out her palm before he could verbally express offense. "Maybe you should learn the best _way_ to fall."

"There's a good way?" he ground out through a groan as he massaged his aching back muscles. That was a _hard_ drop.

Gamora smacked her hand against forehead. " _Stop_ pretending as though you have never fought in a battle or sparred in your entire _life!_ " she said once she looked up at him again, frustration and exasperation clear. "You _know_ there are preferable and safer ways to fall, Peter. And diving face-first, potentially fracturing your nose or _skull_ is not the best."

Peter nodded and conceded. "Fair point, yeah, fine, true. Although aren't I supposed to be learning how not to fall _at all_?" he challenged, doing the twist to the end of the song as it faded out into another lame Nelmeen classical piece, his body growing antsy to move faster again.

"But you _will_ fall," Gamora answered, firm but not really harsh. "And I do not mean only _you_ , Peter, because of your track record thus far today, or your faux confidence sixty seconds ago, or even your general clumsiness," she clarified with a gentle smile, ignoring the way he stuck his tongue out at her _lie_. "Everybody falls _sometimes_ , statistically and practically speaking. At least while first learning, under pressure, or distracted," she said in a more authoritative tone, and Peter knew by now what she meant, although found it difficult to picture Gamora herself being anything but pure grace on the ice. "If the great Star-Lord can sometimes fall while dancing, you will continue to fall as a new skater. And saying not to learn the proper position to land on the ground is as silly as refusing to learn proper First Aid because you're also learning how to _avoid_ being physically attacked during mission training--"

" _Okay_ , I get it," Peter laughed at her new habit of not shutting up until he gave in, something she'd clearly picked up from him. It contrasted too much with her former tactic - stating her single piece of advice for him to either take or leave before ceremoniously exiting the room without another word.

It was a miracle she hadn't yet ditched him completely during this childish lesson that a space hero team Captain and expert fighter and dancer _shouldn't need_.

"The Great Star-Lord at your mercy," he joked with a shaky bow, arms _spread out_ for her liking. "Show me the way as not to bust my head open or permanently break my butt."

Gamora ignored what she probably assumed were dumb and gruesome descriptions. "Simply squat if you feel you're at risk of losing balance, and lean sideways so that if you cannot catch yourself in time you will land on your side to prevent serious or painful injury," she explained and demonstrated the squatting position.

"Oh," Peter said at the simplicity and common sense of it all. "Yeah, that makes total sense, actually," he admitted, and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment for questioning the benefit of that move. It _was_ no different from battles or combat, really. "Still like fighting and dancing. Gotcha. Badass," he added with a wink. Not that Gamora needed to worry about pratfalls, but it would make for a badass landing nevertheless. 

"Yep, you'll have plenty of practice for that," she stated the obvious fact with a teasing glint, her feet looking just as antsy to take a break from this lesson and continue actually skating around the rink to the height of her pre-existing ability like they all came here to do.

Her next words proved his theory. "Come on, let's go see what everybody else is doing and if Mantis is still enjoying her party."

Peter wordlessly agreed and they skated the short length, Peter doing a halfway decent job at keeping up with her pace until the rest of the team were no longer tiny dots in the distance.

Drax and Mantis were playing _some_ type of game, Mantis perched on Drax's shoulders almost piggyback-style and covering his eyes with both of her hands, wearing Peter's jacket over her shoulders and dangling down her back like a cape. Rocket was shouting directions at Drax regarding where to move and turn, while spinning in place on one leg. Groot was applauding wildly at every successful _and_ failed maneuver - and every single fall - made by the visually-compromised Drax. Mantis' enthusiastic yells and laughter echoed throughout the enormous room and bounced off the rink's walls.

" _Or_ stop them from killing themselves," Peter said, and Gamora nodded seriously and picked up her pace to skate over to them in a hurry.

Peter wasn't really too worried about their safety though, or the risk of their private party being kicked out of the establishment - not any more than when they all first planned this event and arrived.

He loved watching them have fun, especially being reminded that Mantis wasn't bored or having any problems, living out what should have been essential childhood moments.

So instead of practicing skating solo after his lesson, or showing off his new skills to the group, Peter took Gamora's hand from behind without her noticing, and bent his knees to position himself for balance without pushing off, allowing her to drag him along like a sleigh as she skated at her natural, more comfortable speed.

 _Now_ it felt like _dancing_.

Particularly once he decided to spin her around to face him before she could react and let go, pulling her closer for a deep kiss in the center of the rink.

She tried to look annoyed, Peter could tell, but broke into a grin and gave him a second, shorter sweet peck on the lips only seconds after pulling apart.

"Distracted already?" she asked, her breath visible as she whispered in her best, most adorable attempt at sounding sultry.

"Nah," Peter said and played with her baby blue scarf. "Well, maybe a little," he confessed with an impish grin that she returned with a fond one. "This felt more fitting."

"Yes, _so_ romantic inside of a public arena," she quipped out in reply.

"Thanks for the tips," he said genuinely instead of a comeback. "For _all_ your help," he added before winking. "Danke Schoen."

Gamora quirked an eyebrow. "Gesundheit?"

Peter smiled; she remembered and was imitating his slang vocabulary. "It means 'thank you'," he explained.

"Why didn't you simply say thank--?"

"Nevermind," he cut her off, waving his arm and getting back to the point. "Thanks a bundle, super appreciated, and you should spend the rest of the time spreading your wings and skating naturally like a champ like you were doing and loving earlier," he said, both grateful for the time she spent slowing down for him, and anxious to watch Gamora go freestyle again, in all her glorious, graceful, beautiful ballerina action.

"No problem," she said softly, entwining her gloved fingers through his own and giving his hand a squeeze.

"For the official record, you're a far better, more patient teacher than you give yourself credit," he said in a serious tone, because he _really_ wanted her to know that - especially today. It was a clear concern of Gamora's, being too harsh and impatient whenever trying to show anybody on the team the proper way to do something. A concern that was really uncalled-for nowadays, in Peter's opinion. Her habits had changed a _lot_ after breaking away from her old lifestyle and helping form the team less than eight months ago.

She obviously wasn't Thanos, _duh!_ \- Peter would've had a difficult time falling in love with her _that_ way - but she wasn't one of her and Nebula's crazy, cruel childhood trainers either, the way he knew that she often feared. And despite being superior at whatever task she was usually, unofficially instructing, she was losing her tough-as-nails edge more and more each day.

That remaining hardass personality was extremely hot - and was sometimes effective and necessary - but he knew that she wanted to balance out into a more respectful and understanding demeanor, especially when the activity wasn't life-or-death, but just plain fun with friends - or alone with Peter.

And he didn't realize until today with his dopey ass on the ice rink that Gamora had far surpassed that goal; that change had come so naturally to her, like so many changes since becoming a couple and a family. 

If she _did_ put much effort into such a switch, it wasn't noticeable, and Peter thought he had a good eye for those things.

"And that's not just a line. I mean it. You're incredibly patient, and a really good-- _amazing_ ," he corrected for emphasis, "ice-skating instructor."

"Really?" she asked him, voice touched and excited, though with a hint of uncertainty and skepticism if he was exaggerating for any reason - the sake of the mood, to make her smile, to forgive him for wasting her recreational party time, or for pleasant ulterior motives later that night.

"Mmm-hmm," he said, and allowed her to take the lead in their casual dancing to spin _him_ around this time, feeling the most confident and light on his feet thus far, barely slipping or buckling his knees. "Granted," he said once they were facing each other again, "my only other instructors have been Ravagers, so...ya know, the bar was already pretty low by comparison on the category of _patience_ , but..."

Gamora chuckled and slowed her movements. "Well, you've always been a fast learner, Star-Lord, so perhaps that balanced out the lesson," she replied, no hint of sarcasm or teasing exaggeration - a genuine compliment - despite the use of the nickname.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, trying not to joke too much regarding his pride, swelling a bit inside like a teenager at the reminder that Gamora didn't only think of him as an attractive dork with an awesome sense of humor and a plethora of cute and interesting foreign planet stories, but an actually competent adult leader with quick learning and adaption skills.

He _was_ getting the hang of this particular physical activity faster than he'd expected since crossing through the ice rink threshold, and even though he did attribute most of that to Gamora's patience and knowledge, he was glad that she noticed how things generally didn't take him too long to learn. 

He never had much choice but to learn fast growing up if he wanted to _survive_ \- or not be on the wrong end of Ravager rage - but it did come in handy nowadays, for important things _and_ cool stuff.

"Yes," she reassured him. "Ridiculous and sometimes whiny, but a quick learner for sure."

"We should have private skating lessons more often then," he said before leaning in for another quick kiss. "I'm diggin' this, but will need a hell of a lot more practice to get to your Olympic levels."

"Sounds like a good idea. There are plenty of closer, less expensive rinks, as well as free natural outdoor locations for you to perfect your new dancing-on-ice heroic abilities," she teased, but he knew that she was on-board with this new couple's activity. "Just don't sign us up for any duo competitions or recitals quite yet," she added, just before looking to the ceiling as Ms. Springfield's voice mixed with soaring rock strings came serenading their moment through the speakers. "Care to dance to this song?" she surprised him by requesting.

"Didn't you want to check on the others? Or...do more of those fancy, high-twirly jump...things, alone?"

"Maybe later," Gamora said. "The party is far from over," she added and pointed to the digital clock's flashing lights on the high corner of the rink's wall, and pulled him into another kiss, slow and just as deep as the one Peter had initiated sixty seconds ago.

"Yo, 'Mora! Quill! Wanna join in on judging this rodeo?--ahh gross! _Here_ too?!"

Gamora pushed gently on Peter's shoulders to suddenly and _prematurely_ break away from his lips as they both turned their heads at the sound of Rocket's annoying voice.

"Yuck! Like your little kiddie lessons over there weren't enough of a gag parade," he said from where he was resting on the ledge next to Groot and kicking his legs.

"That doesn't even make sense!" Peter hollered back.

"Skatin' in little circles, ya looked like'a couple'a toddlers--"

"I am Groot!" the kid said indignantly while staring up at Rocket, tiny gloved branches on his waist.

"Ya know what I mean!" the trash panda defended himself before turning his attention back to them. "And now you're treatin' the place like it's yer bedroom!"

"Relax, Rocket, we will be over in a moment!" Gamora placated him.

"Aww, we will?" 

She sighed and nodded, jerking her head in the group's direction, indicating for Peter to join her with their family, though not before stealing another quick kiss.

Mantis was the one to notice them this time.

"Come on, Peter, it's your turn to ride!" she shouted excitedly. "You can climb on Drax, and Gamora and I can team up to race--Oh!" she said once she spotted their lips connected. "Oh, is this a birthday ritual, too?" she asked with curiosity, dropping Peter's precious jacket onto the dirty slush.

"I do not believe so," Drax stated, unraveling Mantis' scarf from his eyes that he'd been using as a blindfold. "At least not in front of an audience, although Quill's Terran customs are mysterious..."

"Guys!"

"They can't keep their d'asted hands off each other no matter where they are!"

"Save it for your _own_ birthday celebration!" Drax called in agreement.

"Okay!" Gamora shut them up, and turned around to look passed Drax and face the birthday girl. "We're sorry, Mantis."

"I don't mind!" she piped up. "You two are sweet!"

_"Don't encourage them!"_

"Raincheck on that private dance?" Peter asked though a sigh, because those idiots ruined _everything_. "If you don't wanna wait long we can flood and freeze our ship quarter's tonight," he joke suggested with a wry grin. "On second thought, let's not do that," he then said almost immediately before Gamora had a chance to take him seriously. Their bedroom was enough of a messy work-in-progress, and he knew from adolescent experience that indoor flooding disasters on _The Quadrant_ really _sucked_.

"I think we can judge or participate in whatever game they have concocted, work on your skating practice, _and_ dance together at the same time," Gamora told him with confidence.

"Wow, three things at _once_. Sounds advanced," Peter replied, widening his eyes and continuing to tease in an exaggerated flirting tone, one of his other favorite activities with Gamora that had also become extremely easy for both of them. "You really believe I'm...ready for that?"

"I am GROOT!"

"He said, 'Get. a. _ROOM_ '!" 

"You're a fast learner, remember?" Gamora said, tuning out Rocket and Groot's commentary, truth shining right through their mock banter and flirting. "And I'll have your hand, Star-Ice Dancer," she added and began heading toward the other crazies. Peter this time skated next to her instead of letting himself be dragged behind, doing a slightly better job keeping up with her pace and finding his own balance.

"And hey, don't listen to what they say, as if being romantic on ice is weird or anything. On Earth it's a perfectly romantic setting and opportunity," he informed her honestly. Although even if it wasn't common on Earth, anything involving that type of graceful motion, closeness, warmth, Gamora's gorgeous attire, and dancing slowly together with music in the background was romantic and mushy enough in his book. "I've heard of a _lot_ of musicals performed on ice, too! It's a whole sub-genre of--"

"Okay, I'm going ahead of you now," she interrupted quickly and skated at her own faster speed, dropping Peter's hand and throwing off his rhythm as he shrieked and collided again onto the ground.

"KARMA!" Rocket shouted from a distance at the sight. "Whatcha get for makin' us watch ya make out in the middle of the party! Disgusting!"

"Shit! Ow!" Peter ignored the cynical asshole's words and rubbed his side. "Alright, I'll admit, this surface is a lot harder than your average dance floor."

Gamora had hit the breaks and turned to stare him down, seemingly studying him, hand on her hip and smiling.

Peter quirked a brow and stared back at her curiously. "What?" he asked before even attempting to leap back up.

He then realized that her look was one of approval, and that she'd noticed before he did the way Peter had subconsciously squatted and landed on his left side this time instead of flat on his ass. "Oh!" he exclaimed in understanding. "Uhh...was that good?" he cringed and sheepishly asked.

"Mmm-hmm," Gamora said, crossing her arms and nodding her head with a proud grin. "Excellent fall."

**Author's Note:**

> Songs referenced are [_Twist and Shout_ by _The Beatles_ / John Lennon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2RicaUqd9Hg) and [_I Only Wanna Be With You_ by Dusty Springfield.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6opirWRSj4c) :)
> 
> Hey all! Long time no posting, I know.
> 
> I confess that I know almost _nothing_ about ice skating, have never done so myself, and would be just as clumsy, clueless, and pathetic on the ice as these goofs. I only looked up the very basics, plenty is probably inaccurate, but Gamora admits to not being a professional teacher, and chalk it up to space science and foreign, intergalactic ice rinks being different. ;)
> 
> I am also aware that these one-shots are getting cheesier and cheesier, but would be lying if I said that I cared all that much. :P
> 
> Hope everyone is doing well and continuing to stay safe and healthy this summer, managing as best as you all can. Thank you so much for reading! :D
> 
> My _Guardians of the Galaxy_ tumblr (though sadly less active these days) is [here](https://marypoppinswasmyfatherbitches.tumblr.com/)!


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